Tension & Relief
by Candaru
Summary: Gaju is appalled at Tatara's lack of knowledge in giving a PROPER back massage. Naturally, he takes it upon himself to remedy this. (Oneshot, no slash, rated T for safety.)


(A/N: I'm on volume EIGHT of this manga and I would already die for half the relationships in the series) (...with that said, no spoilers in the comments, please!)

* * *

"I'll see you tomorrow for boba?"

"Yep; don't be late again or I'll find a better partner."

"Ha-ha. See you, then."

Unbothered by his partner's empty threat, Tatara waved goodbye to the red-haired girl who strolled out the studio, wiping her brow of the sweat that everyone in the room was so covered in. Although only a practice session, everyone had worked their hearts out in preparation for the upcoming tournament, each frightened by the notion of being outdone by the others.

"TATARAAAA!"

...or, most were frightened, anyhow. Tatara flinched at the familiar shout, still far from used to the fact that it wasn't being used as a threat anymore.

"Y-yes?!" he yelped in prompt response, spinning himself to face the taller blond boy that approached him with a confident swagger.

"Me 'n you. Lobby. Now."

Tatara replied with only a noise of confusion as he pointed to the blonde girl who was still mingling with the instructors about an upcoming tournament.

"U-um, but Mako-chan...?"

"I told 'er not to wait up. S' not like we're headed to the same place, anyway."

"Right…" Tatara remembered, still finding it odd that the Akagi siblings didn't live together when it would provide such an advantage to their practicing. But he didn't dare ask about it. Rather, he followed Gaju meekly into the lobby and sunk his weary body into the couch before asking, "And why are _we_ here, again?"

To his surprise, Gaju didn't follow him in sitting down. Rather, he flopped himself face-first onto the floor, folding his arms to make a pillow for his sweat-soaked head.

"You do my back n' I'll do yers."

"S-sorry?"

Gaju rolled his eyes and glared at Tatara expectantly. "My back's killing me. I'm askin' ya politely to massage it."

"Um… but…"

Gaju shot him a look that reminded Tatara he was the sort of person he really didn't like saying no to. Therefore, he decided not to refute the stronger boy's definition of "politely asking," and instead fiddled nervously with his shirt, using it to wipe his arms and hands before forcing himself off the nice, comfortable couch.

"Hurry up," Gaju muttered, although his eyes were closed in such a relaxed fashion it seemed he had all the time in the world. Shoving down notions of how awkward he felt, Tatara climbed onto the mountain of a man and attempted to straddle his back— which was difficult due to its broadness and his own unfortunately shorter legs— before starting to run his fingers up and down the boy's spine like spiders.

Gaju opened one eye and glanced back. "The heck?"

Tatara stopped, unsure how to reply to a complaint he didn't understand.

"_What_ are you doing?"

"Umm, massaging you, like you asked…?" Tatara's reply sounded more like a question than an answer. "At least, this is how my mom always helped me fall asleep when I was little…"

"This ain't some bedtime story with yer mum," Gaju retorted with a huff. "Yer an athlete now. Act like it."

Tatara assumed this meant to press harder, although with Gaju there was never any telling, so he increased the pressure of his finger-spiders until he was interrupted again not a minute later.

"Seriously? That as hard as you can go?"

"W-well, no, b-but—" Tatara stammered.

"Go's hard as you can. My back's seriously killing me. And quit stammering, will ya?"

"Y-yes, sorry!"

Tatara took a deep breath before pressing his fingers as hard as he could into the rock-hard muscles that lined the lifelong athlete's back. It felt more or less like trying to turn a brick into putty.

Gaju's expectations, unsurprisingly, were not fulfilled. "Geez, you ever had a real back massage before?"

"Well, I haven't been dancing that long, so… no…?"

Tatara was relieved to see that Gaju's expression was something other than anger, although he would've appreciated a warning before he was suddenly bucked off the older boy's back like a mechanical bull rider.

"Ow!" he muttered as his rump hit the floor. In truth, his whole body ached as much as Gaju's; even holding proper pose in the rigid way he was taught hurt before he took so much as a single step. Not that he ever complained— his partner would probably just kick him while he was down, and the instructors would be less than impressed. (It occurred to Tatara, not for the first time, how unexpectedly brutal the world of dance could be... in both the physical and mental sense.)

"Sengoku-san said y'tend to learn by watching, right?"

Tatara blinked in surprise. Sengoku-san _talked_ about him? And to Gaju, of all people?

"Er, yeah, I guess that's right."

"Hmph. Then get on the floor like I showed ya. I'll do you first, then y'can do me properly."

At this, Tatara hesitated. A back massage actually did sound nice, but…

"Y-you're a lot stronger than me. Are you sure—"

"I ain't gonna break anything."

This was the only condolence given, but it was enough for Tatara to sigh and lie down on his stomach as asked. He wondered briefly if the activity was something Gaju did with his sister after practice sessions; he seemed very familiar with it.

"This might hurt a little," Gaju warned as he towered over Tatara.

His warning was nowhere _close_ to alerting the newer dancer of the sudden pressure that dug into his back. Tatara cried out, partially from surprise and partially from pain; instead of fingers, the larger boy used the muscles just under his palms, which were apparently effective for channeling all 150 of his pounds into energy. It felt almost as if a dull blade were slicing through his skin to reach the muscles underneath.

"G-Gaju-kun," Tatara muttered through clenched teeth.

"Give it a minute," Gaju ordered— not that the other had much of a choice. The heavy pressure turned into kneading motions, rubbing slow circles up and down Tatara's back.

To the smaller boy's surprise, the more he rubbed, the less it hurt: what felt like knots in his muscles slowly started to unwind, the repetitive motions of Gaju's ridiculously strong hands forcing all the tension out of his back. And after a while, it actually felt good. _Really_ good.

"This's how us athletes do it, y'hear?" Gaju said, moving his hands up to Tatara's neck and causing him to scrunch up in reflex as what felt like electrical shocks ran down his spine. "An' if you don't think yer strong enough yet, you can always use th'elbows. Takes a lot less energy, too."

"Mm," Tatara muttered in reply. He understood now why Gaju had closed his eyes; he didn't want to listen or look at anything else while the other was kneading his back. If Gaju was as solid as a brick, Tatara was certain his own body was more akin to pretzel dough. Which, honestly, he didn't mind as he shifted quietly under the other boy's weight, following _(hah)_ the motions of his hands to guide where he wanted them to rub.

After what felt like an unfairly short time, he felt Gaju's legs swing off of him. "Alright, deal's a deal. You gotta do me now."

"I didn't technically agree to this," Tatara complained as he dragged himself up off the floor. He really, really didn't want Gaju to stop. But to his surprise, as he sat up straight, his back once again felt entirely normal— as if he hadn't been practicing rigorously for three hours straight on the hardwood dance floor.

"I feel… good," Tatara admitted in surprise.

"Right?" Gaju agreed. "Some a' the tension will come back later— least, it always does for me— but still."

Tatara started to climb up to the awkward-straddle, but Gaju stopped him. "If the position's that hard, kneel to the side. Like promenade position, there are variations. Just don't do whatever that gentle, fluttery thing was again."

"_Fluttery?"_ Tatara asked, raising an eyebrow, but he knelt to Gaju's side and then struck down as hard as he could with his elbows.

"OW! Seriously?!"

"You said to use my elbows!" Tatara exclaimed.

"Yeah, but not as javelins! It's about _pressing,_ not _hitting,"_ Gaju clarified. Tatara was surprised but grateful to see that he was smirking, like the amusement of Tatara's blunder outweighed the pain. "Whatever, jus' keep going."

And Tatara did. He was pretty sure he got better as he went, too, because Gaju stopped complaining and let him work in silence, only occasionally baring his fangs and groaning when he hit a spot that was especially tight. It seriously did feel like kneading a bag full of bricks.

But he'd been right about using his elbows instead of hands: for some reason, it took less than half the energy, although Tatara also found that pressing his fists worked as a substitute when hunching over with his folded arms started to hurt his back again.

"Sucks that you have to curl over for this," he commented, pausing to stretch and prevent the re-onset of tension from before.

"I offered to go last so y'wouldn't tense up again," Gaju mumbled, in a sort of half-asleep voice that Tatara had never heard him use before. "'S yer own fault I had to demonstrate."

"Careful or I'll javelin you," Tatara teased, the words already out of his mouth before he could consider whether teasing Gaju was a good idea or not.

But the blond simply smirked in reply. "That ain't even a verb," he muttered, rolling his face back down into his folded arms.

Tatara worked for about a minute more before stopping and rolling his shoulders back. "Okay, that's all I can do."

"What? No fair, I did you longer," Gaju said, opening one eye.

"Pretty sure I went longer, actually," Tatara replied.

"It was definitely me."

"Ehh… doubt it."

"Hmph. Next time we're using a timer."

"Fine," Tatara retorted, surprised at how happy he was to hear the words 'next time.'

Gaju rolled over onto his back before launching himself up like a turtle rocking on its shell. "By th'way, I heard ya talking about getting tea with Chi-chan tomorrow. That a date?"

"Honestly? I have no idea," Tatara admitted. "But we're partners, so I don't mind spending time together."

Gaju didn't respond to this point except for a knowing smirk at how difficult it was to understand Chi-chan. "Well, tell me how things go when I see ya Monday."

"So... you're still hanging out in our room at lunch?" Tatara asked, a bit embarrassed to even bring up the topic. "Even though you're a second-year?"

"Like I said before," Gaju replied nonchalantly, "we're both dancers. So..." He stood up, wiped his face on his shirt, and saluted before strutting out the doorway. "See ya."

Tatara yawned and grabbed his things before he took his own leave, addressing each of the staff members on his way out and wondering where Gaju learned his massaging technique from. Sengoku or another professional dancer, maybe? He _really_ needed to read all those dance magazines he'd been collecting.

Well, either way, the world of dance was indeed surprisingly brutal.

But it had some surprisingly nice advantages, too.

* * *

(a character: *is aggressive*  
me:  
me:  
me: time for a tactile fanfic)


End file.
